One Hour Photo
by Juliette D'Ouverture
Summary: Cassie and Juliette go out to have their pictures taken without telling their Masters Kingsley Edge and Sir Lincoln Cruz


One Hour Photo

I stood in the coffee shop Cassie and I wanted to meet and waited in line. People were talking in all different languages. That was New York. Completely overwhelmed by the range of products I always only ordered a grande Caramel Macchiato. Today I hoped Cassie would arrive before it was my turn or we would need to get in line with all the tourists again. As we cut it close to our appointment that would be bad.

Luckily I just saw her slip through the entrance door. She pushed her sunglasses up into her brunette hair which she wore in a loose braid over her shoulder and looked searchingly around. She seemed relaxed. But by her fingers clutching the straps of her bag so hard that her knuckles turned white I could tell that she was as nervous as I was. I forced my face into a smile and waved her over. Together we bought our coffee and left the shop.

"So, have you told your Master in the end?" I broke the silence in which we walked to our appointment, weaving our way through the rushing crowds on the pedestrian walk, when we stopped at a street light. The other night I ran into Cassie at a gallery opening. We had both admired the beautiful, large-scale photos which were loaded with erotic though leaving a lot to the imagination. The longer we looked the more we fantasized about posing for some pictures ourselves. It was all good fun until in an impulse we asked the gallery owner if he could organize a shoot for us. The next day he came through and sent us a message containing date, time and place where we could meet the artist himself. That's when we started to worry about what our Masters would think of us dropping clothes in front of a stranger.

"No," Cassie shook her head viciously. "Did you ask permission?"

I gnawed on my lower lip and shortly shook my head just as the street light turned green. "No. I was tempted though this morning during breakfast." I stopped shortly to step out of the way of a woman with a buggy and a crying toddler at her hand. I smiled at her in sympathy since she seemed at the end of her rope and rather embarrassed. "He was kind of probing, not that he seemed to know anything. Sometimes I could swear he smells trouble before it happens."

"Oh, I know what you mean," Cassie nodded into her cup. "Sir Lincoln has this kind of smile that just leaves you wanting to confess anything, because he seems to read you like a book anyway. He used it last night on me when I used my time in the bathroom. But I didn't say a word."

The end of the sentence was drowned out by the street noise as she had turned her head away from me to look into a side street. "Is it this back there? It looks like an old office building not a fancy studio."

I stepped out of the way and checked my phone, then the street signs, then my phone again. "Mmh, it's definitely the address from the message. Maybe this artist had some idea or another about ambience that he wants to try out. You never know with these types. Their reality is different."

Cassie scrutinized the building. "It's empty. I can even make out some graffiti through the windows."

"Yes, but look – these doors look new and heavy and there are some security cameras that look top notch and up to date. Maybe the building changed hands and is now up for renovation. That's actually something mon Roi would do with a newly acquired location before remodeling – rent it out to artists or bands for a last big gig in the old state before bringing in the new life." I shrugged. "You want to wuss out now that we are here?"

I tried to make it sound more self-assure than I felt, because really I was about to turn around and head home. But when I had been ready to shy away from something new because it scared me though I wanted it, my mom always said that one rather regrets the things one hasn't done and hardly ever experiences.

Cassie set her shoulders, threw her braid back and stormed forward wielding her coffee cup like a sword. "No, let's do this."

At the door we both waited for the other to open it and enter first. Finally, I trashed my cup and reached for the handle the moment Cassie reached out too. We bumped our heads together and started to giggle manically. One look at each other and we both moved for the door again. And again we broke out in laughter.

"After you, my dear," I bowed.

"No, after you," Cassie replied.

"No, after you," I insisted and even opened the door for her.

"No, after you," she laughed and stepped far out of way.

"Oh my gosh, I read a short story once that went like this. It was even called After You, My Dear Alfonse. Would you please go in now? We are late already."

Cassie bowed her head and slipped past me. "What happened?"

"In the story?" I stepped in as well and made sue the door closed behind me. We didn't need any uninvited visitors running through the building with what we had in mind. "These two boys went home after the first day of school together. One invited the other over. They goof around at the door, the 'after you' thing and being very polite etc. Finally in the kitchen the mother of the one boy stops dead in her tracks as her son's new friend is this black dude. All in contrast of this polite stuff that just went on, you know?" I looked up to see Cassie eyeing me.

"You don't think this artist will be shocked because you're this black dudette, do you?"

"He better is not. But this story was set in the sixties or seventies I think. Last century, long past – or so one hopes." While talking I climbed the stairs. The message said 5th floor and of course no elevator worked in this building. I shortly calculated in my head; 5th floor in this building would take us right up to under the rooftop. "Have you given thought to what you want the photos to look like?"

Cassie panted behind me. "No, not much beyond the fact that I liked what we say at the opening. But this ragged surrounding tells a complete different story than the studio light effects that we admired."

"I know." We finally reached the last landing and stood in what once might have been a large studio space going by the amount of milk glass windows fit into the roof. I could see chains hanging from balks what would make sense if a sculptor worked out of this studio. Other things made less sense like a wrought iron bed and equipment of which I was sure were copies in the dungeons of the 8th Circle. "This isn't at all what I imagined."

Cassie came to a stop so close to me I could feel the slight tremble of her body as her shoulder rubbed against mine. "You -, you think if we just bailed and sneak out…?"

I nodded, taking in details of my surrounding that made me go through everything I learnt about self-defense. But I always came back to the part about not walking into an unknown situation with an unknown person without anyone knowing where you went. Slowly Cassie and I turned simultaneously. The look on her face mirrored my thoughts. She too, was beating herself up about what the situation we got ourselves into.

180° later I spied crossed arms on a Victorian suit and highly polished riding boots immediately in front of me while next to it stood a corporate suit of finest material, arms equally crossed.

"What – what – what –" I stuttered.

"What we are doing here you want to ask?" The sweet French accent couldn't tint the disapproval in the voice. "It's fancy you might ask that because we were to ask the exact same question."

I sighed. "We were busted, weren't we?"

"The gallery owner is a client of mine," Sir Lincoln simply stated with a condemning stare at Cassie. He didn't have to say a word more; it explained everything.

"And considering what could have happened, you're lucky enough you were busted. What were you thinking? I could have organized a photo shoot just snipping with my fingers." He actually snipped and pointed down. I fell on my knees immediately. Cassie followed not even waiting for Sir Lincoln to give the command.

"The problem was, we didn't think." "We are sorry, terribly sorry." We both spoke over each other.

"Enough," whispered mon Roi, but it was enough to silence Cassie and I immediately. "You two have all night to show us how sorry you are. Start by stripping now."


End file.
